


Gold Colored Foxes

by Brokenjaw (Vrael)



Series: Brokenjaw's Lucifer Prompts [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hospital bed, Sickfic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23923114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vrael/pseuds/Brokenjaw
Summary: Chloe Jane Decker is crimson blood, and churning brine.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Brokenjaw's Lucifer Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724503
Comments: 13
Kudos: 103





	Gold Colored Foxes

The hospital bed is crowded, but Lucifer doesn’t mind. His suit jacket lies crumpled in the nearest chair, his cufflinks pocketed. Socked feet entwine with Chloe’s bare ones and he curls around her, pressing her shivering body against his chest as if he could steal from her the cold. But he can’t. 

The Detective is sweaty, her skin pallid and sallow. The fever has yet to break and the distant chirping of the heart monitor is too fast for his liking. Too much like a careening vehicle heading for a crash, and not enough like rhythm. He hates the way her breath sounds in her chest. Watery, weak and fragile. 

Its times like this he’s reminded of the truth he tries so often to forget. 

Chloe Jane Decker is crimson blood, and churning brine. 

She is gristle, and fat, and delicate muscles, the sharpness of pale bone. Always so blunt, and so soft, and so cutting. His axe, his shield, and his cloak. So unlike the starlight, ozone and screaming void that sits inside his skin. 

The Detective is something that is simultaneously burning and drowning. A flame that consumes, and consumes her own wick until snuffed out by a wealth of boiling wax - as much as Lucifer would make the whole world her pyre. Only his Father could so cruelly invent a people so organic, so corrosive and self corroding all at once. Humans are clay, and seawater, and the sweet-bitter tang of rusting iron. And he, Lucifer isn’t that, and will never be. 

But oh how he dreams. 

But oh how he wants lifetimes of the same, with her. 

They could be a pair of foxes, dancing in a green meadow - with a pile of kits crowded into a den beneath rain sodden leaves. A couple of ancient lovers, smiling at each other over a weathered breakfast table. Two birds, calling gently to each other across an endless stretch of night. And endless permutation of beauty, and song, and joy, reborn over and over and over. He would follow her across lifetimes if the universe were a fair and just thing. 

He brushes back Chloe’s sweat slicked hair, and her breath stutters in her chest like a wounded animal. She nuzzles into his collarbone, careless of all their differences. To her, they are the same thing - and maybe here, in this dark corner of a shadowed hospital, it’s true. 

Chloe, his bleeding, bright ephemeral goddess makes it so. 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: 'you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. / tell me about despair, yours, and i will tell you mine. / meanwhile the world goes on'


End file.
